


Light Me Up

by oneprotagonistshort



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Body Shots, Clubbing, M/M, gratuitous pop music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:10:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneprotagonistshort/pseuds/oneprotagonistshort
Summary: Dirk's hunch leads them to a gay bar.aka: the slutty clubbing montage





	Light Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> this is completely self-indulgent but who doesn't love a slutty club montage, right?
> 
> this fic would not be possible without mango, my inspiration, muse, and guide to what Dirk Gently would wear to a club

“I have a hunch,” Dirk said, walking into Todd’s apartment without knocking. Todd had long since given up on trying to stop him, and after a while he’d realized he really didn’t mind. Plus, he came with good news. They’d been running in circles for two days trying to solve their most recent case and it wasn’t going well. If the universe had anything to say, it had been taking its time. Dirk’s hunch could be the lead they were looking for.

“That’s great!” Todd said. “What is it?”

Dirk paused, likely for dramatic effect, and then said with a huge smile, “Fame!”

“Fame… like, the ‘80s movie?”

“No,” Dirk said as if that was the stupidest answer Todd could have possibly given. “The discotheque!”

Todd thought about that for a second and then, “You mean the gay bar?”

Triumphantly, Dirk thrust a flyer out at Todd. “Exactly!” he said. “And we’re going. Tonight.”

Todd was a little weary of the idea; he had no problems with gay guys or clubs or any of that, but as he looked down at his Mexican Funeral t-shirt and compared it to the buff shirtless guy on the flyer he knew it wasn’t exactly his scene.

Still, Dirk was grinning like he’d won the lottery, and they really did need a new lead.

“Fine,” Todd said, and Dirk bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly excited.

“It’s going to be great, Todd,” he said. “Just you wait.”

*

They left together, sharing the backseat of a cab and discussing possible connections between the club and the case. Todd tried not to look nervous as they paid the driver and approached the entrance; Dirk hadn’t said anything about his outfit and he had a feeling he was going to stick out like a sore thumb. The dark jeans, gray t-shirt, and impulsive last bit of eyeliner he’d stolen from Amanda years ago had seemed low-key enough when he’d put them on, but now he wasn’t so sure.

The first person they saw was wearing nothing but pink hot pants and four-inch sequined green boots, which didn’t really make him feel any better.

They stopped at the coat check first, it was a cooler evening and they’d needed to wear jackets. Todd handed his over just in time to see Dirk remove his, revealing what he was wearing underneath.

Todd had no idea where Dirk had even gotten it, but he was wearing an honest-to-god, full-on eurotrash, vaguely metallic mesh tank top. All Todd could do was stare.

“You coming?” Dirk asked impatiently, already making his way into the club.

Snapping out of it, Todd followed. “Yeah,” he said, raising his voice to be heard above the music. “What are you wearing?”

Dirk looked down at himself like he was wondering why Todd was commenting on his outfit. “Clothes?” he said, as if it should have been obvious. Todd wasn’t sure the shirt counted as clothes. “Clubs get hot, this shirt won’t suffocate me,” he added. “It's practical! Come on, let’s go.”

He grabbed Todd’s wrist to lead him into the crowd, but Todd resisted. “Maybe we should just go get your jacket,” he said, not sure why he needed Dirk to cover up so desperately.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dirk said, tugging him forward. “I just paid that man five dollars to take it for me.”

Giving up, Todd let himself be pulled. Pumping through the speakers was what sounded like a house remix of “I Need a Hero” by Bonnie Tyler, which to Todd seemed a bit on the nose. There were strobe lights flashing over the dance floor that was lined with stripper poles, and from where he was standing Todd could see at least three guys in bondage harnesses.

Dirk looked like a kid in a candy store.

Todd couldn’t tell if it was the shirtless guys or the shiny lights that had Dirk so entranced. He’d wondered sometimes about Dirk, but they’d never talked about it. Todd wasn’t exactly a paragon of heterosexuality, he’d figured that much out a long time ago, so he never bothered bringing it up.

The music transitioned into a new song and Dirk’s eyes lit up. “We should dance,” he said, smacking Todd’s shoulder impatiently.

“Ow!” Todd said, pushing his hand away. “Got a hunch?”

“No, I just love this song,” Dirk said, yanking on Todd’s arm where he was still holding him by the wrist and dragging him onto the dance floor. After a few bars Todd recognized it as the Carly Rae Jepsen song that Dirk was obsessed with and that he secretly liked against his will. He decided to just go with it, following Dirk to join the jumping, cheering crowd.

He didn’t realize how packed the floor was until he was in the middle of it, pressed closer to Dirk than he was generally used to being in non-life threatening situations. It was hot, obviously, but the thin layers of cotton and mesh between their chests meant that Todd could feel Dirk’s body heat specifically radiating into him. 

Dirk was clearly having the time of his life though, jumping and dancing with everyone else and smiling at Todd until he had no choice but to give in and do the same. He was already starting to sweat, but so was everyone else so it didn’t really matter. They danced and Dirk sang along until they were both breathless and laughing. Todd didn’t know what the universe was up to sending them there, but at least this time it was somewhere fun.

“Cut to the Feeling” ended and Rihanna’s “S&M” started, and the sudden surge of black leather onto the floor was more than Todd could handle. He didn’t know why he felt so weird, he’d been to clubs before and had no problem with dancing like this, but being pressed up against Dirk while Rihanna crooned _sex in the air I don’t care, I love the smell of it_ was just… too much.

“I’m going to get us drinks,” Todd yelled over the music before making a beeline for the bar with the intention of getting as much alcohol as he could carry. It took him awhile to get the bartender’s attention, and by the time he’d downed two of the on-special shooters and grabbed another two drinks for both of them, Dirk was nowhere near where he’d left him.

Todd pushed through the crowd around the bar into slightly more open space, looking around to see where Dirk could have gone. Fortunately he didn’t have to go far before he heard a telltale British accent a few feet behind him on his right.

“...my bf?” Dirk was saying to two guys who he’d somehow managed to attract. “You mean my best friend Todd? Yeah, he’s here! Actually… Todd! Hey Todd!” Dirk had spotted him and was calling him over.

Handing Dirk his drink, Todd joined them. “Hey guys,” he said, “I’m Todd.”

“This is Eric, and that’s Jason,” Dirk said excitedly. “We’re going to do body shots!”

Todd choked on the mouthful of vodka tonic he’d been halfway through swallowing. “What?”

Eric and Jason exchanged sideways glances as if to say _who the hell is this guy?_ and Todd felt a sudden rush of determination to keep both of them as far away from Dirk as possible.

“Cool,” he said, trying to sound casual as he knocked back the rest of his drink. “Me first.”

He almost missed the flash of surprise on Dirk’s face as he herded him back towards the bar. Dirk finished his own drink before they got there, and Eric and Jason cleared off enough of the bartop for Dirk to hop up. He pulled off his tank top, not that there was a whole lot of it to remove, and the reality of what he was about to do hit Todd like a brick wall.

“Have you ever done this before?” Dirk asked, taking on the new activity as easily as if he were trying on a new pair of shoes.

“No,” Todd confessed. “Have you?”

“Never,” responded Dirk. Actually, I-” but they were cut off by a shot of tequila being pressed into Todd’s hands and a wedge of lime going into Dirk’s mouth, rind down. He settled back against the bar, but watched Todd out of the corner of his eye.

Somewhere between licking salt off of Dirk's collarbone and sucking tequila out of his navel Todd realized exactly how far in over his head he was. He grabbed the lime out of Dirk's mouth with his teeth, Dirk's eyes staying wide and locked on him the whole time. Todd was totally, completely, incredibly fucked.

He pulled back and it was Dirk who looked away first, exhaling hard and staring resolutely at the ceiling. Todd’s lips were tingling, but not from the alcohol. 

Either Eric or Jason- Todd didn’t know which one was which and genuinely didn’t care- stepped forward with another shot of tequila. “Nice,” he said to Dirk. “Ready for another?”

Without thinking, Todd pretended that the question was directed to him. “Thanks!” he said, panicking and grabbing the shot. He wasn’t mentally prepared to repeat the experience, but he definitely wasn’t willing to watch someone else do it.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to do either. Dirk’s flying tank top knocked the shot out of Todd’s hands when Dirk threw it at him, yelling, “I’ve solved it!”

Jason and Eric were left behind when Dirk jumped off the bar and grabbed Todd’s hand, pulling him deep into the push of the dancefloor. He looked up and pointed. “What do you see?” he asked, squinting against the flashing lights.

“A future of wearing glasses?” Todd asked, also squinting up at the lights. They made his eyes hurt, and the part of him that had consumed two shooters, a vodka tonic, and most of a shot of tequila swayed.

Dirk steadied him by placing his hands on Todd’s hips, turning him slightly so they were looking at the same thing. “Moore Lighting,” he said, indicating the label on the strobe light that Todd could barely see. “I’ve seen that before.”

“The guy at the house!” Todd yelled, only partially to be heard above the music. “He worked for them!”

“Exactly!” Dirk said. “Neighbors said they saw flashing lights _before_ the police showed up. Could be a proper lead.”

Todd tore his eyes away from the lights and glanced over his shoulder to where Dirk was standing behind him, hands still on his hips. “Should we go?” he asked, and Dirk frowned minutely. “You want to stay, don’t you.” It wasn’t even a question.

Dirk beamed. “It’s just that they’re playing Demi Lovato,” he gushed, “and you _know_ how much I love her.”

Todd knew. “Fine,” he laughed. “One song.”

“One song,” Dirk confirmed.

*

One song turned into three, then seven, then twelve. Eventually Todd stopped counting and just danced, content to be where he was. And oh, wasn’t that strange. Todd was never _content_ , let alone in the middle of a pulsing, pressing crowd of people he didn’t know, dancing to music he didn’t actually like.

At some point Dirk had put his tank top back on, but they both still smelled pretty strongly of tequila. They’d stayed long enough that the initial buzz of Todd’s hastily-consumed drinks had worn off and now he was drunk on the feeling of being pressed so close to Dirk he could swear he felt his heartbeat above the bass. His back was against Dirk’s chest now, and Dirk was just _taller_ , tall enough that Todd could feel his breath ghosting over the shell of his ear whenever he turned his head.

They’d given up on talking somewhere between Britney Spears and Tove Lo and Todd had given up on thinking right around the time he’d reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of Dirk’s neck. He hadn’t missed the sharp inhale that had come with it; they were close enough that he could physically feel the harsh breath Dirk sucked in, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t tightened his grip a little just to feel it again.

A song Todd recognized from the radio pumped through the speakers, and Dirk leaned in impossibly closer, lips against Todd’s ear, and said, “I like this one.”

Ariana Grande’s “Side to Side” didn’t strike Todd as particularly Dirk’s style, but then again with Dirk it was hard to tell. He wondered if Dirk knew that the song was about getting fucked so good you couldn’t walk. Sometimes Dirk didn’t really pay attention to lyrics until someone pointed them out to him; generally he preferred melody over words. The gentle caress of Dirk’s hand running up his arm and the slow grind of his hips suggested that maybe he knew more than Todd might expect him to. He shivered, and felt a matching tremor in Dirk’s hand.

Eventually the heat and the noise and the lights started to get to him, and against his will Todd felt himself start to wilt back against Dirk. Despite his quicksilver existence, Dirk had become a steady constant in Todd’s life, and that didn’t change now. Dirk took on his weight easily and shifted them face-to-face.

Todd’s ears were ringing but he could still hear Dirk say, “Let’s go home.”

*

They left the club with a minimal exchange of words. They agreed to look further into Moore Lighting the next day and concocted a plan that involved minor breaking and entering. It was marginally less illegal than Todd had become used to, which somehow was a comfort.

The ride home was quiet, all sidelong glances and small smiles. There was an energy thrumming through them that hadn’t been there before, or maybe it had been and Todd just hadn’t noticed until now. He felt electrified, and when Dirk grabbed his hand in the back of the cab the circuit closed and Todd buzzed to life.

Something had changed, or was changing, or was going to change.

Todd didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Dirk felt it too.

*

One of Dirk’s trademarks was that he seemed to constantly be talking, but he was quiet now. He followed Todd to his apartment on instinct or as a reflex or because he wanted to, Todd couldn’t be sure.

“Do you want to come in?” Todd offered, finally unlocking his door. If his throat felt dry it must have been because he’d been yelling over pop remixes all night.

Dirk smiled like the sun rising, and Todd felt something tug hard under his ribs. Dirk started to say something but the tension in Todd’s chest that had been coiling tighter and tighter all night snapped, and he was on Dirk before he could even think about what he was doing.

Dirk stilled for a moment when Todd kissed him, and for a second Todd wondered if he'd made a huge mistake, but after a pause Dirk melted into it. Todd kissed him hard but never deepened it, just wrapped a hand around the back of Dirk’s neck like he had at the club.

Dirk made a pleased noise but his hand started sort of… flailing behind Todd. Making himself pull away, Todd said, “Oh shit. Is this- is this okay?”

“Jesus,” Dirk said, and kissed him again. “It is so okay, it is the most okay thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life, I could write _novels_ about how okay this is. I just can’t get the knob.”

“Oh,” said Todd, who had briefly forgotten where they were. “It sticks sometimes,” he explained, then he reached down, turned it expertly, kicked the door open, and dragged Dirk inside by the front of his jacket. The door closed behind them almost as an afterthought, and in the dark of Todd’s apartment, Dirk shoved him up against the wall.

They were connected lips to hips now, and Todd’s heart was racing like he was running from the cops, or a cult, or whatever else was trying to kill them that day. There was no fear though, only adrenaline and the fierce need to get Dirk closer. He snaked a hand around Dirk’s waist, under his jacket and over the goddamn mesh tank top. When Todd smoothed it up Dirk’s back, Dirk’s hips jerked forward and Todd had to bite his lip in an effort to keep in the obscene noise that tried to escape.

Dirk pulled back, and Todd could see just enough of his face in the low light to recognize the analytical way Dirk was studying him. He’d seen the look a thousand times but it had never been directed at him like this, and he felt pinned between the wall and Dirk’s steady gaze. It wasn’t an _unpleasant_ feeling, but Todd had preferred what they were doing before.

He tried to pull Dirk back up against him, drawing him in close, and when Dirk’s thigh knocked between his knees he muffled another noise into Dirk’s jacket.

“Hey,” Dirk said, pulling away again, but only a little bit. “None of that. I’ve thought about this a lot and I’d rather not have you spoil it by trying to hide from me.” He slid his thigh higher up between Todd’s legs, and grinned when Todd thunked his head back against the wall. 

Dirk was back on him after that, bracing himself with a forearm on the wall next to Todd’s head so he could descend down onto him and they could kiss each other senseless. Todd was so turned on he could barely stand, but whenever his knees started to go, Dirk just pushed up against him, making the problem worse. He was kissing Dirk’s neck when Dirk snuck a hand between them, rubbing against him where his body was starting to take interest. 

Todd moaned, feeling Dirk smile as he placed kisses behind his ear, and then started shoving Dirk’s jacket off his shoulders while simultaneously trying to walk him further into the apartment. Dirk took the hint and let himself be pushed, tossing Todd’s jacket to the floor as they went.

Dirk still smelled like tequila but they were both stone-cold sober as they stumbled towards the bed. Sure, they were laughing between kisses and knocked over two lamps, a picture frame, and a mug of stale coffee on the way there, but that could be attributed to the giddy excitement that was building between them.

Todd yanked off Dirk’s tank top and his own t-shirt before they tumbled onto the sheets, pausing for a second to catch their breath. With some of the frenetic urgency gone, Todd was able to look at Dirk, really _look_ at him, and realize that yeah, this was really happening.

“This is really happening,” Dirk said, almost reverently. He pulled Todd on top of him, hands running everywhere like he’d never touched anyone like this. It occurred to Todd that there was a good chance he hadn’t.

Todd dipped his head, licking a line up Dirk’s collarbone and tasting salt again before biting a mark under his jaw. Dirk’s hips jerked underneath him, and it was less controlled than before. Todd brushed the pad of his thumb up against Dirk’s nipple, feeling him arch into the touch.

“What do you want, Dirk?” Todd asked, rutting up against him slowly.

Dirk stilled and let out a shaky exhale, clearly thinking about what to say. “Too damn much,” was what he settled on.

Todd pulled back a fraction of an inch and saw that Dirk looked completely overwhelmed. Not that Todd was totally put together either, but it looked different on Dirk. Todd was forced to face the reality that, holy shit, he was making out with his best friend in his bed. It was a lot to take in.

Dirk snapped him out of it by drawing him down for another kiss, slower this time but with a new simmering heat behind it. Todd closed the distance between them again, getting himself as close to Dirk as possible wherever he could.

“What can I do?”

“I’ve thought about it, and I’ve decided,” Dirk said firmly, as if there was any question by now that Todd would do anything he asked. “I want…” he started, then shuddered. “I want what you did before. With the tequila.”

Todd inhaled sharply, remembering his mouth on Dirk’s skin vividly. He could work with that.

“Fuck yes,” he said. Before he started to undo Dirk’s jeans he paused for a second, fingers hovering over Dirk’s waistband. “You’re sure?”

“Todd,” Dirk said, in a way that Todd thought must have been intended to sound gravely serious but mostly came off as seriously turned on. “I have never in my life been as certain of anything as I am that I need you to touch me before I explode. Yes. _Please_.”

Todd shifted down the bed on his elbows and Dirk wriggled out of his jeans and underwear with his typical lack of grace. Todd settled between his legs and the gasp Dirk inhaled when Todd finally got his mouth on Dirk’s cock was so astonished it bordered on scandalized. 

Todd dipped his head lower until he couldn't fit any more of Dirk into his mouth. It had been a long time since he’d done this, and he didn't want to ruin things by taking on more than he could handle. Dirk didn't seem to mind. 

“Todd,” he breathed, as if his name was a revelation. “Shit, oh my _god-_ ” 

His voice cracked over moan and Todd started to move. He started slow, and felt Dirk tremble underneath him in an effort to stay still. Once Dirk’s breath started catching in the back of his throat, Todd picked up the pace a little and Dirk started to lose his mind.

“ _Oh-_ ” he started, hands reaching out like they didn’t know what to hold onto. He settled for one hand carding through Todd’s hair and another fisted in the sheets, hips canting up to meet Todd’s mouth. “Todd, that- _yes_ , Todd, _please-_ ”

Dirk was never one to be rendered speechless, Todd had always known that about him, but hearing him unable to form even a rambling, nonsensical sentence was incredibly validating. Todd kept going, repeating any actions that earned him excessive profanity or a particularly sharp tug on his hair.

They reached a point where every other word out of Dirk’s mouth was Todd’s name, and he was shaking like he was going to fall apart. Todd knew what was happening, he could feel it, so he pulled away and sucked a dark bruise into Dirk’s hipbone while working him with his hand.

Dirk whined and thrust up into it, and when Todd grazed his teeth over the mark he’d made, Dirk went taught and came with a low moan. He was still shaking a little when Todd pulled himself back up the bed for a kiss.

“That was-” Dirk said, bringing an unsteady hand up to touch Todd’s face, “I quite liked that.” He was breathing hard, like they’d just outrun an angry mob.

Todd grinned, an impossible fondness unfurling in his chest. “Good,” he said, starting to jerk himself off, “because I _really_ liked that.” 

Dirk smacked his hand away and for an insane second Todd thought he wasn’t going to be allowed to get off. 

“Absolutely not,” Dirk said, not making Todd feel any better. “It’s my turn and I’ll be damned if I let you do all the touching.”

He replaced Todd’s hand with his own, and oh, this was going to be embarrassing. Todd was so wound up from the dancing and the body shots and the _everything else that had followed_ that Dirk only got a minute or two of deliberate, experimental touching before Todd went off. He came with a shout into Dirk’s shoulder, and collapsed next to him shortly thereafter.

There was a brief silence followed by hysterical laughter, the kind Todd had only realized he was capable of after he’d survived a near-death experience. It was pure relief, the feeling that everything was going to be alright, and Todd felt that in what he had with Dirk.

In what they had together.

*

They fell asleep in Todd’s bed, wrapped up in a chaotic tangle of limbs and blankets. Dirk woke up first.

“Do you hear that?” he asked, sitting bolt upright.

Todd vaguely registered the rumbling noise of a familiar engine, but disregarded it in favor of curling up next to Dirk. “It’s too early in the morning for this,” he said into Dirk’s knee.

“It’s almost noon, not only is it not early, it’s barely even morning” Dirk said, still sounding mildly panicked. “Did you lock the front door?”

Todd heard it open and sat bolt upright next to Dirk. “Oh shit,” he said, looking around as if he could find a place to hide.

Dirk inched closer to him, and there was no doubt in Todd’s mind that Dirk would be hiding behind him if he’d been able to find a way to do it. “Is it the Rowdy 3?”

“Worse,” Todd said, and they heard a familiar voice from the living room, exchanging twin looks of horror. 

“Hey loser,” Amanda called, rapidly approaching the bedroom. “Did you forget you were taking me to lunch?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested, I made a playlist for this fictional club that I've been listening to on a loop for a week. [Listen on Spotify.](https://open.spotify.com/user/bripopsicle/playlist/6XJQ1UQIaMRjTgDYeGOitB)


End file.
